Former public defender Sara Bennett spent 13 years photographing women convicted of homicide in New York state, tracing their lives in prison and, for some, their re-entry into the outside world. Her book, Looking Inside: Women with Life Sentences, published by Kehrer Verlag, offers a layered narrative that resists stereotype.
Portraits of Incarceration and Release
Bennett's subjects include Linda, 70, incarcerated at age 43 in 1992 and sentenced to 30 years to life. Pictured at Taconic Correctional Facility in 2019, Linda says: 'This is my 27th year being incarcerated. I’ve been scared, lonely, hurt, disappointed and forgotten... I beg for forgiveness and a second chance. Will I die behind these walls?'
Veronica, 53, served 27 years of a 25-years-to-life sentence and was released in 2019. She is shown in her apartment in Flushing, New York, in 2021, with her husband of 29 years.
Andrea, 64, incarcerated at age 46 in 2001 with a 20-years-to-life sentence, was released in 2020. She says: 'When I first came in, it was weird but I learned to deal with it by going to church and working. As a woman who has rebuilt herself, I love being in my 60s.'
Life After Decades Behind Bars
Karen, 69, served 35 years and was released in 2017. Four weeks after release, she was in a homeless shelter. She recalls: 'Parole sent me to a homeless assessment centre in the South Bronx. The quality of the food and bedding was a lateral move from prison. But, factoring in my freedom, there’s no question it was an improvement. Now I’m living in a shelter run by the Women’s Prison Association. I feel safe and secure. The room I’m living in is sparse, with not much in it – but it’s mine. In this room I find comfort, privacy, peace of mind, and finally freedom.'
Sahiah, 23, was incarcerated at age 16 in 2011 with a 20-years-to-life sentence. She is pictured at the college library at Bedford Hills Correctional Facility in 2019. She says: 'Being incarcerated at such a young age made me feel as if my life was over. But as the days and the time went by I knew God had a special plan and purpose for me. There is light at the end of my tunnel. I will be free.'
The Emotional Toll of Long Sentences
Judy, 69, was incarcerated at age 31 in 1981 with a 75-years-to-life sentence and released in 2019. She is shown at the nursery at Bedford Hills in 2019. She reflects: 'People ask me why I smile so much. It’s not that I’m always happy. I suffer the pains of imprisonment: separation from loved ones, being strip-searched after visits, being forbidden to hug. Every day, I carry the burden of guilt for my crime and all the pain and loss I am responsible for. I cannot change that. But I can decide how to wake up each morning and meet the day. I choose love, curiosity, to smile.'
Carol, 69, served 35 years of a 25-years-to-life sentence and was released in 2013. Four years after release, she is in supportive housing in Long Island City, New York. She says: 'When I was inside, I dreamed of getting out, getting a job, travelling. But by the time I got out my health was bad. Basically, that changed all plans. I wish I could do more, but I’m at peace. I have my grandson Cecil. He’s a precious boy of six years. He loves me unconditionally and that’s a delight.'
Reclaiming Freedom
Jennifer, 40, served 17½ years and was released in 2020. Fifteen months after release, she is in her own apartment in Brooklyn, New York. She says: 'I feel like I am working on being free.'
Assia, 35, was incarcerated at age 19 in 2003 with an 18-years-to-life sentence. She is shown in a baby clothes storeroom at Bedford Hills in 2018. She explains: 'Recently I spent the night looking after a nine-week-old baby whose mom was removed from the nursery unit. As a nursery aide and doula, I am one of the few women entrusted with caring for precious life and supporting new and experienced mothers. Despite the bad choices that landed me in prison, and away from my own children who have had to grow up without me, I can still make a difference.'
Hope and Resilience
Evelyn, 42, served 17 years of a 15-years-to-life sentence and was released in 2012. She is pictured in Queens, New York, in 2014, spending time with children. She says: 'When I was a kid, I didn’t have so much time to play around. I was busy. I was the only girl. I had two small brothers and I had to take care of them and work. Spending time with kids now lets me goof around and be silly. I feel joyous when I’m with them.'
Karen, 69, incarcerated at age 35 in 1982 with a 25-years-to-life sentence, is shown in the visiting room at Taconic in 2017. She reflects: 'First Step: I will finally breathe fresh air, finally take my first step outside this fence without my hands cuffed – without shackles on my feet. Will I feel free right away? Will I be scared? I would be a fool not to be terrified of all that has changed in 35 years, but I’m an eager fool.'
Bennett's work is a striking reminder of the complexity and humanity of women who are far more than the single act that sent them to prison.
